Callipygous

After some hesitation, the girls filed out of the conference room to follow me outside and down the gangway to where a massive, eighty-five-foot power catamaran sat moored at the very end of the dock. The three-deck ship towered over the dock, resplendent in soothing hues of green and blue lights. Equal parts yacht and mansion. On the stern was stenciled “Road Town, BVI” and, above that, the ship’s name. Callipygous.

The dock itself sat empty at that late hour, but it was probable, even likely, that at least a few boats held sleeping owners. I had to get the girls aboard the yacht as quickly as possible and shove off before anyone took notice of us.

To save time, I’d spent the previous eight days provisioning the ship and making other arrangements in preparation for the two-week journey to the island. The ship sat fully fueled and idling, ready to go. Before we could depart, however, I had one last thing to do. As we approached the gangplank leading to the ship’s lower deck, I stopped underneath a dock light and turned to address them.

“You will not be able to take any personal items with you. Please remove everything from your pockets and place all phones, handbags, and purses into the sack when I come around. They will be placed in the ship’s safe until it’s time for you to return home. Please, do it now.”

The girls exchanged nervous glances and began to remove items from their pockets, depositing their meager belongings into a sling bag I’d removed from the briefcase.

I looked at each girl in turn. “Is that everything?”

Eyes shifted nervously and moved away. When I reached into the briefcase to remove a metal-detecting wand, a few of those eyes grew wide.

“One at a time, please step forward and hold your arms out to your side. Tabitha, you first.”

She appeared terrified as she slowly shuffled forward. When she stopped and put her arms out, her hands shook. I gave her an appraising look.

“Do you have something on you?” Her lips trembled. “What is it?” I asked quietly, so no one else could hear. Tabitha looked down at the weathered dock planks, her face red with embarrassment. “You can tell me now, or I can find it myself.” I kept my tone firm but even. Authoritative. She wore a short, strapless sundress, so she had few places to hide something.

“I ... don’t want to say,” she whispered. “It’s too embarrassing.”

I thought I understood. I leaned in closer and spoke in a low voice. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I just want you to say yes or no, okay? Do you have something inside you right now?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Y-yes.”

She said it so quietly I could barely hear her, even though she stood less than a foot away. I sighed and made a show of considering what to do about it.

“Go aboard and wait for the rest of us.”

She stared at me, incredulous. “R-really?”

“Go ahead. Next.”

Tabitha hesitated a moment, then turned and picked her way across the gangplank to the catamaran’s large, open aft deck.

Julia stepped forward and stuck out her arms without being asked. She wore form-fitting denim jeggings and a tight red cable-knit sweater. Its plunging neckline revealed ample cleavage. She smirked as I carefully wanded her.

“Sure you don’t want to give me a pat-down, officer?”

I did. Badly. “You’re good. Please go aboard. Next.”

Julia winked and strode across the gangplank, her wide hips swaying beneath the stretchy material of her jeggings.

Ronky came forward, dressed far more provocatively than the others. Ragged cut-off denim shorts failed to contain her large flabby ass cheeks, and a knitted faux bra exposed her thick midsection and conformed to the contours of her small breasts.

Up close, her bad skin was apparent. Pale and pasty, and somehow dry and oily at the same time. Spots of acne dotted her face, chest, and back. It was fair to say that Ronky was not an attractive girl.

A quick wanding cleared her. She stomped across the gangplank in her chunky wedge heels, and I had to tear my eyes from her jiggling ass.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath. “Next.”

Tracy stepped up wearing a tight graphic t-shirt and orange corduroy pants that rode low on her hips to hug her squishy curves. She smiled demurely as I wanded her.

“You’re good. Head on over and wait with the others. Next.”

“Thank you,” she said in a soft, husky whisper, and I noticed her big eyes flick to my crotch before she walked away.

Sam stepped forward next. I wanded her quickly and she joined the others without comment. Only Bianca remained. She waited in her spot under the light and refused to move.

“This is fucking bullshit,” she muttered.

“Step forward, please.”

“Fuck you.” Her voice lacked conviction. It had been a reflexive, anti-authoritarian response. I stood, impassive, watching her until she became uncomfortable.

“What are you looking at, you fucking creeper? Mr. call me Big Dick.”

I pointed back the way we came. “If you don’t want to be here, then go. The driver’s been instructed to wait until after we’ve departed the marina. If you’d prefer not to go with us on the yacht, he’ll take you back to the airport. From there, you can head straight back home. Unfortunately, there will be no refunds.”

She glared at me, defiant and indecisive. She obviously didn’t want to go with me, but she didn’t want to go back home either. So she stood there, conflicted.

“Or you can hand over whatever it is you’re hiding and come with us. Your choice.”

“Where the hell are you taking us? And where the fuck are we, even? And why is some old dude taking six teenage girls on a boat alone? What the fuck is going on?”

The volume of her voice rose with every question until the last one came out as a shout. I casually scanned the nearby boats and prayed no one was watching. Then I fixed my attention back on her and took a deep breath.

Bianca’s questions confirmed what I suspected. Her parents had concealed the details about Gethsemane Academy from her. It didn’t surprise me in the least. My few brief conversations with her father had revealed him to be an authoritarian hard ass. He made the decisions in his household and his word was law.

I didn’t have time to explain it to her now. That would only invite more questions. When I responded, it took everything I had to keep my voice low and even.

“As I said, all will be revealed in time, and not a moment before. You have all the information you need to make a decision, and there are only two to make. You can stay behind, or you can come with us. Whatever you’re going to do, decide quickly, because if I step onto that yacht before you do, that option will be gone forever.”

She wrestled with indecision, looking between me, the yacht, and the parking lot where the lights of the Suburban shined against the side of the marina. Finally, she made a choice. She stepped forward, staying just out of range of the wand.

“You already took everything I own, so can we just go?”

“Arms out.”

She glared at me. Then, unexpectedly, she lifted her tank top to reveal her white belly and a pair of large breasts barely contained beneath a black satin bra. She spun around.

“See, I don’t have anything.” She looked down at her chest. “Except for these.” She lifted her eyes. “See anything you like, pervert?”

She did have nice tits.

“Arms out.”

She huffed and stuck out her arms, keeping her shirt lifted. She smirked at my glances. I wanded her carefully and heard a light beep when I reached her crotch. I tried to wand closer, but she had her legs together.